


Night Air

by thesometimeswarrior



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Aftermath of trauma, Angst, Canon Compliant, Family, Ficlet, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Rated for Minor Alcohol Use, Sea Grunkles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26291323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesometimeswarrior/pseuds/thesometimeswarrior
Summary: When Stan stumbles above deck in the middle hours of the night, he’s not surprised to find that his brother is already there, leaning against the guardrail. “Couldn’t sleep either, huh.”
Relationships: Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Mabel Pines & Stan Pines
Comments: 8
Kudos: 81





	Night Air

When Stan stumbles above deck in the middle hours of the night, he’s not surprised to find that his brother is already there, leaning against the guardrail. “Couldn’t sleep either, huh.”

Ford says nothing, but shakes his head. There’s no moon tonight—it’s a new moon, maybe, or maybe stuff like this gets weird as they get close to the Arctic Circle, Stan’s not really sure—but the sky is peppered with bursts of starlight that reflect off of Ford’s glasses. Ford always carries the weight of those distant dimensions around inside of him, Stan knows, but sometimes he _looks_ it—and this is one of those moments. 

“Bill?”

“Bill.” Ford pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers, closes his eyes, and draws a long breath through his nostrils. The air is frigid; it must hurt his lungs. But if it does, he doesn’t react to it. After he releases the breath and opens his eyes, he turns to Stan. “You?”

“Nah. Different dream tonight.” A pause. Ford doesn’t push, but then he wouldn’t. Not for something like this. The waves lap against the side of the boat. Ford looks at him patiently with his star-eyes. Eventually Stan continues. “You know when we got you back? The portal and everything?”

“Mm.”

“I ever tell ya how close Mabel was to getting sucked in?”

 _That_ gets Ford’s attention. His eyebrows fly up in alarm. “ _What_?! No!”

Stan nods, flits his eyes away. “She was getting ready to shut the whole thing down, and I was so desperate to get you back—I was begging her not to, telling her to _trust_ me, and she _did_. And to _show_ me that she did, she just… _let go_ of the button! And then she was floating right in front of it, the portal, and then, before I could say anything, the countdown went off, and the thing turned _on_ , and for a second it was like déjà vu or whatever, and I was so sure she was gonna be pulled in just like _you_ were…” 

Now, it’s his turn to breathe a deep drag of the almost-arctic air, and it _does_ hurt—icy little daggers digging into his throat, his chest. It’s bracing, though, grounding. Keeps him together enough to be able to continue. “She wasn’t obviously. And with after everything that happened after that—you back, and then everything with Bill—I didn’t really have time to think about it much. But…I do now. I have been, recently. About what coulda—what _almost_ —happened to her, and these past few nights I’ve been _dreaming_ about it…I just keep picturing her…”

And suddenly there is a firm, gloved, six-fingered hand on Stan’s shoulder. “It didn’t happen, Stanley. She’s _safe_. Both of the kids, they’re _safe_. We’ll call them in the morning—perhaps on that video application—so you can see.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I know, it’s just…” His voice tapers off.

“I know. I… _understand_.”

“And… _you_ know that one-eyed demon is gone for good, right? ‘Cuz he is.”

Ford nods. “Yes.”

“Good.”

The return to silence. The waves continue to crash against the side of the boat. They’re so small, so tiny out here on their dot of a trawler in the middle of the great big ocean, and underneath that black, wide sky. Most of the time, especially during the day, he doesn’t feel that, he feels _big_ , invincible with his brother by his side after everything they’d both been through. But occasionally, the truth strikes him…

After a moment, Ford produces a metal flask from the inside pocket of his coat. He unscrews the top, takes a swig, then holds it out to Stan, eyebrows raised in invitation.

“Gimme that, ya bid nerd,” Stan chuckles, then gently takes it from him and sips.

The whiskey warms him infinitesimally. Ford’s arm around his shoulder a bit more. No doubt the sun—when it rises in however-many hours—will do the rest.

They’ll wait for it together.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I love comments!


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